Bad news travels fast. And this morning I learned that the father of one of my long-time soccer friends passed away from lung cancer earlier today. I can't get my brain to figure out how long I've known her, but I would guess around 15 years. I haven't seen her in person since this summer, as I have been battling my own battle, but I have received many team Get Well Soon cards with her signature and notes. "Miss your happy spirit on the field. Get well and come back soon." I wonder if all my friends and teammates understand how uplifting and powerful their cards and messages have been to me. I've said "thank you" hundreds of times since June, and I've written thank you cards, and I've sent thank you e-mails. So much so that two friends told me, upon delivering a meal and many thoughtful items, "no thank you card." But, but, but... okay, thank you.
The first thing I think of when I think of my friend, is the images and sounds of her three foster kids singing and dancing to the Frozen songs on our sideline. As someone who always wanted a family but who isn't married and doesn't have biological children of her own yet, my teammate took in three children to create her very own foster family. From what I understand, she is undergoing the process to adopt them as well. And they are related, two sisters and a brother. She has kept them all together. All in the same year that her Dad has been struggling with lung cancer. How great a gift has she given those three kids, I hope they say thank you to her everyday.
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